


Forgotten Promises

by Dolimir



Category: Smallville
Genre: Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-16
Updated: 2011-06-16
Packaged: 2017-10-20 11:20:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolimir/pseuds/Dolimir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If only Clark would remember...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgotten Promises

“Excellent namako, Kensi.” Lex dabbed both corners of his mouth with his cloth napkin. “Once again, you’ve outdone yourself.”

The sushi chef gave a sharp bow in acknowledgment. “You honor me with your words, sir.”

“If my meager words give you joy, then I am satisfied, for you have honored me with your sublime artistry this evening.”

A giggle cut off Kensi’s response and Lex shot the chef a silent apology. Kensi, however, waved it off, letting him know the apology would not be heard.

“Do you need any assistance getting Mr. Kent to the car this evening?”

“No. Thank you. I think I can manage.”

Lex stood, then looked down at his dinner partner. “Up you go, Clark.”

“But…but…”

“We’ll come back again.”

“Soon?”

“If you wish.”

“I do.” Clark stood, but staggered a bit once he gained his feet, forcing Lex to wrap an arm around his waist to keep him upright.

One of the serving girls lead Lex to the side door where the limo was waiting. He managed to pour Clark into the vehicle with very little trouble. Once Clark was arranged, Lex sat beside his nemesis.

Clark sighed. “I miss this.”

“I know.” And if he were honest with himself, Lex would be forced to admit that he missed the old days of Clark’s companionship as well.

Since the first time a photograph of Superman appeared in The Daily Planet, Lex knew that the Man of Steel was actually Clark Kent from Smallville, Kansas. In the nearly two decades that Clark had been prancing around in spandex, Lex had never called Clark Kal-El or called Superman Clark. And because he could keep the identities separated, he came to realize that Clark truly believed he didn’t know.

Lex wasn’t quite sure why he kept the information to himself. Perhaps, he thought, he simply liked being in the know. After all, if he exposed Clark for Superman’s alter ego, Clark would become Superman full-time and the cost to keep him under surveillance would skyrocket.

Lex had allowed ‘Clark’ to ingratiate himself back into Lex’s good graces. Their relationship, while far from friendliness they had once shared during Clark’s youth, was at least professional. As close as Lex could figure, Clark had reestablished their relationship as a way to keep tabs on him. And because Lex knew that Clark didn’t realize he knew what was going on, he had the satisfaction of being able to yank Clark’s chain from time to time and still maintain his innocent façade.

Neither Superman nor Clark Kent drank alcohol, basically because it had no effect on Clark’s alien physiology. However, sushi was almost a form of organic kryptonite. The more Clark consumed, the more buzzed he became.

One of the up sides to his ‘drunkenness’ was that Clark always told the truth when he was sloshed. But better still, he never remembered what he said the next morning. At first Lex didn’t believe that Clark didn’t remember, but he had tested Clark by telling him all sorts of secrets that would have the Man of Steel launching into full patronizing sanctimonious action. However, it quickly became apparent that Clark simply couldn’t retain his memories through his sushi haze.

The limo pulled up to Clark’s building and Lex didn’t have any trouble getting him up to his apartment and into bed. As long as Lex monitored Clark’s wasabi and nigiri-zushi intake, he didn’t have to worry about any amorous alien advances. While a sober Clark was forever monitoring his strength, a drunk Clark could be a little careless and Lex had the healed bruises to prove it.

He tucked Clark into bed and turned on the white noise generator Clark kept beside his alarm clock, knowing it was probably enough to keep Clark’s hearing in check until the fish had worked its way through his system.

“Stay?” Clark looked up at him with big puppy eyes.

“I can’t. Not tonight.”

“Are you mad?”

“No, but I need to be in England by noon tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Clark’s disappointment heavily colored the little word. “I had fun tonight,” he added after a moment.

“So did I.”

Clark wiggled deeper into his blankets then looked up at Lex. “Do you ever miss us?”

Lex sighed softly and sat beside Clark’s supine body. “Yes, Clark. I do miss us.”

Nodding absently, Clark took Lex’s hand in his. “I’ve made so many mistakes where you’re concerned.”

“As have I.”

“Will you kiss me before you go?”

Instead of answering, Lex simply leaned forward and brushed his lips against Clark’s. Before Clark could deepen the kiss, Lex stood and headed for the door.

“I will find a way to save you,” Clark whispered after him.

Lex closed his eyes, wondering if tomorrow would be the day Clark remembered, but knew better than to believe an alcoholic’s promise that dawn would hold the promise salvation.


End file.
